Witch Is Why A Pin Dropped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 20)

by Adele Abbott

  “Okay, then. Shall I shrink myself now or do you want to wait until we get to Best Cakes?”

  “It would probably be best to do it now, in case someone sees you.”

  “It’s been a long time since I cast the ‘shrink’ spell.” She sounded nervous. “I hope I can still remember how.”

  Moments later, she’d proven that her memory hadn’t failed her.

  “Brace yourself.” I crouched down. “I’m going to pick you up now.”

  “Be gentle,” she said, in a squeaky, little voice.

  I grabbed hold of mini-Aunt Lucy, and put her in my pocket.

  When I walked through the door of Best Cakes, the ice maidens glared at me.

  “The bad penny is back,” Laura said.

  “Have you deserted Scuzzy C?” Flora laughed at her own joke.

  “I’d like to take a look in your stock room.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s none of your business. Miles told you that I should have free access to all areas of the shop, didn’t he?”

  “Knock yourself out.” Laura shrugged.

  I made my way through to the stock room. Once in there, I had to act quickly because I knew the ice maidens might follow at any moment. After taking mini-Aunt Lucy out of my pocket, she reversed the ‘shrink’ spell to bring herself back to full-size.

  Aunt Lucy went straight into action, hollowing out one of the large muffins, just as I’d instructed. When she’d finished, I sat on the counter, and shrank myself small enough to get inside the hollowed-out cake. There was just enough room inside for me to stand up. Aunt Lucy had remembered to make a small slot through which I could see.

  “Ready, Jill?” she whispered to the muffin.

  “Yes!” I had to shout to be heard.

  I watched through the slot as Aunt Lucy cast the ‘doppelganger’ spell, to make herself look like me. Then, she hurried out of the stock room, and out of the shop. I’d given her strict instructions not to engage with the ice maidens on the way out. If my plan had worked, they would now believe that I’d left the premises. All I had to do now was wait.

  Have you ever been stuck inside a muffin? Sorry—stupid question—of course you haven’t. If you ever do find yourself in that predicament, you’ll discover that there’s a great temptation to take bites out of the muffin walls that surround you. Of course, being the professional I am, I managed to resist that temptation.

  What? Who are you calling a liar? Okay, then, but it was only one or two bites. Maybe three.

  An hour later, and I was still waiting. What if I’d got this badly wrong? It was getting awfully hot inside the cake, and I was really thirsty.

  Just then, the door to the stock room opened, and in walked Flora. Suddenly, everything tilted to one side, and I realised that she’d picked up my muffin. I had to hold onto the sides, so that I didn’t fall out. Fortunately, the cake was soon back on the level again. I was on a tray alongside lots of other cakes. If my hunch was right, any moment now she would start to insert pins into the cakes, and I would have her bang to rights.

  Whoa! I had to grab the sides again when Flora picked up the tray, and carried it through to the shop. I’d been watching her, and so far, she hadn’t pushed a pin into any of the cakes. That threw me a little because I’d been sure that the sabotage would take place in the stock room—out of sight of the customers. Once in the shop, she proceeded to place each cake into the display cabinet.

  I now had to face the possibility that I’d got this completely wrong. Maybe the ice maidens weren’t behind the sabotage after all? Either way, I now had a much bigger problem to worry about. Now that I was in the display cabinet, a customer could decide to buy my muffin at any moment. What would I do then? I’d have no choice but to blow my cover, and make my escape. The alternative was to become someone’s snack.

  Fortunately, Flora had placed my muffin at such an angle that I had a good view of the shop.

  “Yes, madam?” Laura said when an elderly witch came to the counter.

  “A cup of tea—milk no sugar, please.”

  “Anything with that?”

  “I quite fancy a muffin.”

  Oh bum!

  “Which flavour?”

  Not the strawberry! Please, don’t pick the strawberry!

  “I’m torn between the chocolate and the strawberry.”

  Choose the chocolate one, please! The chocolate one looks lovely!

  “I think I’ll have the strawberry. No, wait! I’ll have the chocolate.”

  Phew! That was too close for comfort.

  Twenty minutes later, and I was still hanging in there. The shop looked to be deserted of customers, so maybe I’d get an opportunity to escape. If only there was some way I could distract the ice maidens.

  “You two take a break while it’s quiet,” a familiar voice said.

  It was Mindy. Thank goodness. Now I’d be able to escape from the muffin, and explain to her that I’d been carrying out surveillance.

  Ouch! What the—?

  Something sharp had just stabbed my thigh. I moved over to the opposite side of the cake, and from there, I could see what had caused the stabbing pain. The tip of a pin was clearly visible, protruding through the wall of the muffin.

  Mindy was the saboteur!

  Another pin appeared through the cake wall; this one just missed my shoulder.

  “Hey!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “Stop doing that!”

  Everything went a bit crazy after that. Mindy must have been so surprised to hear the muffin talking to her that she dropped it. I was thrown back and forth as it hurtled to the ground. Fortunately, I wasn’t thrown out.

  By the time the cake hit the floor, I was somewhat disorientated. I blame the dizziness on the decision I made next. I should have crawled out of the cake, and then reversed the ‘shrink’ spell. Instead, I reversed the ‘shrink’ spell first. As a consequence, the muffin exploded as I reverted to full size.

  “Jill?” Mindy was so shocked that she dropped the remaining pin onto the floor.

  “What are you playing at?” I said, while pulling pieces of strawberry muffin out of my hair.

  “You were inside the muffin?”

  “I was watching Flora and Laura, to try to catch them sabotaging your cakes, but now I find it was you all along.”

  She broke down in tears.

  “Let’s take a walk.” I took her hand.

  “What about the shop?”

  “The ice maidens will be back out soon. Come on, let’s find somewhere quiet where we can talk.”

  There was a small public garden just up the road from Best Cakes. On a quiet bench, I waited until Mindy had managed to compose herself.

  “What’s this all about, Mindy?”

  “It’s those two girls! You were right about them. They’re evil!”

  “What have they done?”

  “They’ve both been coming on to Miles.”

  “Didn’t he tell them to sling their hook?”

  “He can’t say no to a pretty face. He doesn’t think I know, but I’m not stupid.” She wiped away the tears, and took a deep breath. “I thought if I could frame them for the sabotage, he’d show them the door.”

  “I don’t understand why you still want to be with him. If he’s prepared to cheat on you like that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Who else would want me?”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous. You’re an intelligent, attractive woman; you could do a lot better than that slime ball. The sooner you dump him, the better.”

  “You’re right. I know you are. I’ve been such a fool.” She stood up. “But that’s going to change.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done a long time ago.”

  ***

  The blackmailer had threatened to give Blake and Jen up to the rogue retrievers unless Blake paid up. That wasn’t an option because he didn’t have the money, and even if he’d had it, the chances were that t
he blackmailer would keep coming back for more.

  My one and only hunch was that the blackmailer must have got Jen’s details from the blog. I’d read through all the posts she’d ever made as the Wizard’s Wife, and they had given nothing away. That ruled out the many readers of the blog as suspects, but it didn’t rule out whoever owned the website which hosted Washbridge Bloggers. To test my theory, I’d signed up for a blog on the same website. As part of the sign-up process, the user was required to enter their name and email address. Optionally, the user could also provide a physical address. Most people would have declined to give out that kind of information, but Jen had already proven herself to be somewhat naïve. What if she’d included all of her details when signing up? If she had, the owner of the website would have all the information he needed to blackmail her husband.

  Tracing the owner of the website had been easy because the information was publicly available. He lived at Washbridge View—a small development of mews type houses, located close to the swimming baths.

  I pressed the doorbell.

  “Yes?” The young wizard who answered the door had huge nostrils. If he’d taken in a deep breath, I would probably have been sucked up into his sinuses.

  “Colin Spikes?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  I glanced around. “I’m pretty sure that would be me.”

  “I don’t have time for smartasses. What do you want?”

  “I believe you run the Washbridge Bloggers website?”

  “Nah. Nothing to do with me.” He started to close the door, but I stuck my foot in the gap.

  “Not so quick, Colin. Let me rephrase that. I know you run the website. I have the printout of the domain record in my pocket, if you’d like to see it.”

  “So what if I do? The web site is perfectly legal.”

  “It’s not the website I’m here to discuss.”

  “What do you want, then? Who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m the person who is going to inform the rogue retrievers that you are a blackmailer.”

  “That’s rubbish!”

  “Do you know Daze?”

  “Everyone knows Daze.”

  “She just happens to be a close personal friend of mine. One phone call, and she’ll be here in a matter of minutes. You can tell her that you’re not involved with blackmail, and then I’ll show her my evidence. We’ll see who she believes, shall we?”

  “No! There’s no need for that. It wasn’t really blackmail. It was just a joke. A bit of a laugh.”

  “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t call Daze.”

  “The person you were trying to blackmail is one of my neighbours. When I leave here, I’m going to tell him that he won’t hear any more from the blackmailer, but that if he does, he should tell me straightaway. And guess what I’ll do then?”

  “He won’t hear from me again. I promise.”

  “Good boy.”

  Those nostrils would give me nightmares for years to come.

  Chapter 16

  Arranging a meeting with Mike Spins had proven to be remarkably easy. I’d heard that the man was something of a narcissist, and so it had turned out. We met in the small staff canteen at the radio station, and once I’d told him that I was a huge fan, I had him eating out of my hand.

  “You’re rather younger than most of my fans,” he said.

  “I started listening when I was a kid. I was very disappointed when they took you off the drivetime show.”

  “You and thousands of others, but don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time until they restore me to my rightful slot.” Then as an afterthought. “Of course, I wouldn’t have wanted it to happen under such tragic circumstances.”

  “Of course not. I wasn’t a fan of Lee Sparks, but nobody deserves to die like that.”

  “Quite.” He took out a nail file, and began to file his fingernails. He was clearly devastated by his young colleague’s untimely death.

  “I understand that you and Lee Sparks had a meeting on the morning of the day he was murdered.”

  “We did indeed. We sat at this very table, as it happens.”

  “What was your meeting about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all. I have nothing to hide. Lee wanted to pick my brain.”

  “Oh? What about?”

  “Lee might have been popular, but I have something he didn’t.” He paused for effect. “Experience. Lee was worried that the ratings on the drivetime show might fall, so he was asking my advice on how to retain the audience.”

  “And were you able to help him?”

  “Of course. I’m a generous man. Everyone will tell you that. I was able to give Lee a few tips.” He sighed. “Not that it will do him any good now.”

  On my previous visit, Susie Bubbly had told me that there was only the one entrance to the radio station. But should I really trust the word of a woman with the memory of a goldfish? Probably not.

  After leaving through the main doors, I took a walk around the perimeter. It was just as well that I had because at the rear of the building I found a metal door with a combination lock. I was just about to return to reception, to ask Susie about the door, when it opened.

  Both I and the young woman jumped.

  “What are you doing back here?” She eyed me suspiciously.

  “Sorry if I scared you. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. I’m looking into the murder of Lee Sparks. Can I ask your name?”

  “Jenny Black. It’s a terrible business. Everyone’s been on edge since it happened.”

  “What do you do here, Jenny?”

  “I’m a cleaner.”

  “Did you know Lee?”

  “I wouldn’t say I ‘knew’ him, exactly, but I did see him most days.”

  “What did you make of him?”

  “Not much. A bit of a prat if you ask me. He used to call us by our surnames as though we were his servants.”

  “Us?”

  “Me and the other cleaners.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Three altogether. Me, Carol and Mrs Draycott—she’s the boss. Sparks was always barking something at us: this table is dusty, Black. My bin hasn’t been emptied, Draycott. If I didn’t need this job so bad, I’d have flattened him.”

  “Do you always use this door?”

  “We have no choice. The management don’t want the likes of us to be seen out front.”

  “Does anyone else use it?”

  “I don’t think so, but you’d be better off asking Mrs Draycott; she’d know for sure.”

  “Is she in today?”

  “She’s off ill. The runs, I think.”

  “Do you happen to have a number where I can contact her?”

  “Sure.”

  I thanked Jenny for her help, and then continued my inspection of the building. There were no more doors, and no other obvious ways to gain entry.

  I was on my way back to the car when I heard footsteps. I turned around to find a woman hurrying after me.

  “Can I have a word?” she said, while trying to catch her breath.

  “You are?”

  “Patty Phillips. I work as a secretary here. Could we talk somewhere else?”

  “Sure. How about the coffee shop just down the road?”

  “Okay.”

  At Sounds coffee shop, I ordered the drinks, and then we found a quiet table. It wasn’t difficult because the place was deserted.

  I overheard what Mike said to you in the canteen earlier. It was a pack of lies.”

  “Oh?”

  “Lee was a wonderful performer. Unique. He had more talent in his little finger than that old has-been ever had. The idea that Lee would have gone to him for advice is ridiculous. Mike hasn’t had an original idea for years.”

  “Did you hear what they were talking about?”

  “There wasn’t much talking going on. They were shouting at one another. Mike wanted
Lee to host a joint program with him, but Lee laughed in his face. Why would he work with that old timer?”

  “Did they come to blows?”

  “No, but Mike said that Lee would get his comeuppance, and that he’d see he did.”

  “Did he say it in such a way that it sounded like a serious threat?”

  “I would say so.”

  “Did you know Lee Sparks well?”

  “We were friends. I never understood why so many people had it in for him. Jealousy, if you ask me.”

  Patty went on to detail all the qualities she’d admired in Lee Sparks, and it soon became apparent that she’d had a serious crush on him.

  So far, I’d heard from the coffee shop owner who’d said that Lee Sparks had argued with his ex-manager on the morning of the murder. Understandably, Raymond Conway hadn’t been thrilled at being sacked by Sparks. Patty Phillips had suggested the meeting between Sparks and Mike Spins had been far from a friendly affair. Mike Spins can’t have been happy when Sparks threw the idea of a joint show back in his face. The number of people with a motive to murder Sparks was slowly mounting.

  ***

  I went back to the office because I wasn’t in any particular hurry to get home where Jack’s mother would be waiting. For some reason, she’d taken against me. I’d watched her during the anniversary party, and she’d made a point of talking to everyone. Everyone except me. Sure, she’d greeted me when we arrived, but after that it was as though she was doing her best to avoid me.

  Why had she suddenly decided to pay us a visit? She’d had over a year to come to our house, but hadn’t shown any interest in doing so. I was convinced that she’d decided I wasn’t good enough for her son (which was probably true), and had decided to do something about it before it was too late. If that was the case, she’d underestimated me. I didn’t intend to give up Jack without a fight.

  Winky couldn’t have looked any guiltier if he’d tried.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing.” He had his paws behind his back again, as though he was trying to hide something.

  “Okay.”

  I was onto his game. He obviously wanted me to ask what he was hiding, but I wasn’t going to fall for his tricks ever again. Whatever he was up to was of zero interest to me.